[The scene changes to a fair portico joining to a pleasant garden adorned with naked statues of both sexes in various postures. In the middle of the garden is a woman representing a fountain, standing on her head and pissing bolt upright. Soft music is played, after which is sung, by a small voice, in a mournful key:]

[Six naked women and six naked men appear, and dance, the men doing obeisance to the women's cunts, kissing and touching them often, the women doing ceremonies to the men's pricks, kissing them, dandling their cods, etc., and so fall to fucking, after which the women sigh, and the men look simple and sneak off.]

[A grove of cypress and other trees cut in shapes of pricks. Several arbours, figures, and pleasant ornaments. In a banqueting-house are discovered men playing on tabours and dulcimers with their pricks, and women with jews' harps in their cunts.]

[A youth, under a palm-tree sitting, in a melancholy manner sings:]

YOUTH:

Oh! Gentle Venus, ease a prick

That owns thy cunt a Queen,

That lately suffered by a lass,

And spits out blood as green as grass

And cankers has fifteen.

Under her hand it panting lies

And fain it would, but cannot rise.

And when it's got betwixt her thighs,

It grieves to feel such poxy pain,

And it draws back again.

[Enter BOLLOXIMIAN, BORASTUS and POCKENELLO]

BOLLOXIMIAN:

Which of the gods more than myself can do?

BORASTUS:

Alas sir, they are pimps compared with you.

BOLLOXIMIAN:

I'll heaven invade, and bugger all the gods,

And drain the springs of their immortal cods.

I'll make them rub till prick and bollocks cry—

'You've frigged us out of immortality.'

[Enter FLUX]

BOLLOXIMIAN:

Man of philosophy, who pricks repairs,

How chance so long thy counsels and thy cares

Have been a stranger to our courts?

FLUX:

Oh King,

I have these ten days been a-simpling,

Endeavouring with all my art to cure

The crying pains your nation does endure.

The heavy symptoms have infected all—

I now may call it epidemical.

The pricks are eaten off, the women's parts

Are withered more than their despairing hearts.

The children harbour heavy discontents,

Complaining sorely of their fundaments.

The old do curse and envy all that swive,

And yet—in spite of impotence—will strive

To fuck and bugger, though they stink alive.

The young who ne'er on Nature did impose

To rob her charter or pervert her laws,

Are taught at last to break all former vows,

And do what Love and Nature disallows.

BOLLOXIMIAN:

What act does Love and Nature contradict?

FLUX:

That for which Heaven does these pain inflict.

Nor do the beauties of thy throne escape—

The Queen is damned, Prince Prickett has a clap.

Raving and mad the Princess is become,

With pains and ulcerations in her womb.

BOLLOXIMIAN:

Curse upon Fate to punish us for nought.

Can no redress, no punishment be sought?

FLUX:

To Love and Nature all their rights restore,

Fuck no men, and let buggery be no more.

It does the propagable end destroy,

Which Nature gave with pleasure to enjoy.

Please her, and she'll be kind; if you displease,

She turns into corruption and disease.

BOLLOXIMIAN:

How can I leave my own beloved sin,

That has so long my dear companion been?

FLUX:

Sir, it will prove the shortening of your life.

BOLLOXIMIAN:

Then must I go to the old whore, my wife?

Why did the Gods, who gave me leave to be

A King, not grant me immortality?

To be a substitute for heaven at will—

I'll scorn the gift—I'll reign and bugger still.

[The clouds break up and fiery demons appear in the air. They dance and sing:]

DEMONS:

Frig, swive and dally,

Kiss, rise up, and rally,

Curse, blaspheme and swear,

Here are in the air

Those will witness bear

Fire your bollocks singes,

Sodom on the hinges.

Bugger, bugger, bugger.

All in hugger-mugger,

Fire does descend.

'Tis too late to mend.

[They vanish in smoke]

[The Ghost of CUNTIGRATIA appears]

CUNTIGRATIA:

Tyrant, thy day of doom just now is come,

When thou, and all thy skill,

Shall be one funeral pile.

My wretched spirit fears

Thy want of penitence and tears.

I now hell's miseries partake

For thy damned sake.

We'll shortly meet again

With howlings, plague, and pain.

I'll stay for you on t'other side of the lake.

[Descends]

POCKENELLO:

Pox on these sights—I'd rather have a whore.

BORASTUS:

Or I a cunt's rival.

FLUX:

For heaven's sake, no more.

Nature puts me in prophetic fear.

Behold, the heavens in a flame appear.

BOLLOXIMIAN:

Let heaven descend, and set the world on fire

We to some darker cavern will retire.

There on thy buggered arse I will expire.

[Leering all the while on POCKENELLO]

[Enter FIRE and BRIMSTONE, and a CLOUD OF SMOKE appears]

[The curtain is drawn]

FINIS

This work was published before January 1, 1925, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.